Vinculum
by NinjaBubble
Summary: Word sparring turns into a holiday fight and Harry and Malfoy find out that detention doesn't have to be only a few hours long. R: lng, pos. vlnc
1. Stuck on You

Title: Vinculum

Date: July 08, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warning(s): None

-

Stuck on You

The grey white light of winter floated through the window through the glass to softly illuminate the room that held five, four-post beds. Outside the December sky was hidden by a heavy fog, so heavy, that the ground at the bottom of the tower could only barely be made out. A boy with jet-black hair and dulled green eyes sat alone on one of the beds in the all but empty room. Six-teen year old Harry found himself alone for the Christmas holiday. Ron's mother had been in a household accident of some sort and broken her leg. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George were all away, surprisingly busy during the holiday season. Arthur had been called away on business and would be getting home just before Christmas, so Ron had made his way back to the Burrow to take care of his mother. In all the rush of getting ready (for it had only happened the previous day), none of the Weasely's had asked if Harry wanted to come as well; and he had felt it would have been far too rude to ask. Hermione had wanted to stay to give him some company, but her parents had already made plans to go to Hawaii for the holidays and the tickets were non-refundable and in the end she felt too obligated to go.

So Harry was on his own, staying in the Gryffindor house alone, he was the only Gryffindor staying at the school. It seemed to be the most deserted Christmas vacation ever, he had yet to actually come across another student. Of course, it was only the first day of vacation and he hadn't been out of the room since saying good bye to Ron and Hermione. His stomach growled in hunger. He hadn't eaten much of anything that morning, having been too crest fallen about staying by himself. But the holidays wouldn't be that bad, he thought. Hagrid was still on the grounds (he had never left during a holiday) and there were presents to look forward to. Feeling a little better, he picked up his cloak and pulled it over his shoulders as he stood. Not bothering with shoes (what was the reason when he might be the only student in the castle), he left his feet in warm socks and padded to the halls and started to make his way to lunch.

It was a pleasant surprise to find himself running into another person as he turned a sharp corner in the hall. Harry had been watching his feet as he walked, somehow finding it entrancingly amusing. Of course, it didn't sound fun when you were thinking about it. The force of impact made the black-haired boy step back and, unbalanced, fall to the ground. Despite the slight pain that went through his ass and spine on impact with the stone floor he smiled and looked up. Having somebody to at least talk to for a little bit was better than no one at all. Or so he had thought.

"Watch where you're going Potter." Malfoy was sneering down at the other sixth year with a look of disgust etched into his features.

Harry's smile faded into a frown as he quickly pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off. "I could say the same for you Malfoy. What are you doing here? Your parents finally got sick of keeping you around the house?" His retort was amazingly bitter and seemed to surprise the other boy nearly as it surprised himself.

The stunned look on Malfoy's face did not last more than a few seconds, his cheeks already flushing with anger and his response was fired quickly, making up for the momentary delay. "It's nothing to you why I am or am not here Potter. What about you? Your friends," he spat out the word, "seem to be so awfully supporting of you," he smirked, looking at the gaping air on either side of Harry where Ron and Hermione normally were.

Barely able to speak with anger Harry's hand curled up into fists. "Ron's mother is ill, and Hermione couldn't stay," he explained, voice strained as he tried to keep himself calm. He was failing miserably.

Malfoy shrugged, his smirk becoming even more smug than before. "No need to be making excuses for them Potter. I'm sure there's a perfectly legitimate reason why the Weasely's didn't invite you to join them." He chuckled coldly. "It tells you something when a lot like that doesn't want you in their trashy little shed."

"Shut up Malfoy!" Harry ordered, his own cheeks flushed. The last thing he wanted was Malfoy finding out that he had actually struck Harry's doubt dead on.

The blond boy looked haughtily at Harry. "The least they could have done was just plain out tell you that they didn't want you shoving yourself into their family get together instead of leading you on to think they just forgot," he said off handedly. "But you can't blame them for wanting some time without you. You're like a leech. Always there with them, following them around everywhere. Just-"

Malfoy's sentence suddenly cut off as Harry's fist smashed into the side of his face, knocking the unsuspecting teen to the side and into the wall. Silence fell. Harry was breathing heavily in anger, Malfoy seemed to be trying to get over his shock at having been hit. And suddenly he launched himself at Harry with a snarl, his own fist landing in the black-haired boy's face, no doubt the hit would result in a black eye. They fell on the ground, fighting viciously, shouting at each other. Their wands had fallen from their robes and lay, scattered away from them, completely forgotten.

As suddenly as the fight started it stopped, strong hands landing on each boy and wrenching them apart from each other and holding them that way. Hagrid's huge boy stood between them and Professor McGonagall stood off to the side staring at them in shock. "What is the meaning of this?!" Though a strict Professor, it was rare of the woman to ever truly get angry, and when she did it was never a pretty site. This was one of those rare times. Her lips were pressed in a pale, thin line as she glared at both boys. Harry's eyes flickered to Hagrid and he felt shocked and hurt when he found now sympathy in those eyes, and only a confused sternness. He had never thought he could ever describe Hagrid as 'stern,' but the expression seemed unmistakable. McGonagall was still waiting for her response and Harry's gaze returned to her. "Well?" She asked expectantly.

Neither of the boys said anything, they stared conveniently at the ground, not willing to make eye-contact. Seconds of silence ticked by, each one feeling like an hour. Malfoy spoke first and Harry instantly got the sinking feeling that he shouldn't have let the other do so. "It was Potter's fault Professor McGonagall. I had run into him in the hall and was talking to him and he suddenly hit me." He pointed to the dark bruise that had already formed on the left side of his jaw.

McGonagall turned on Harry, thin brows raised. "Is this true Harry?"

Harry was most definitely regretting letting Malfoy having the chance of speaking first. He opened his mouth to deny the statement but realized that, how Malfoy had put it…he was telling the truth. Green eyes flickered over to the other boy, anger clear in their depths. A moment later they returned to McGonagall and he hesitantly answered. "…Yes Professor. But-"

"Harry Potter! I never would have thought you would do something like this," McGonagall said, looking severely disappointed in him. As if he hadn't felt bad enough with Hagrid's first look, when he glanced at the friendly giant again he saw a deeply saddened face. "I hate to do this during the holiday season, but I have no other choice but to give you detention, and take fifty points from Gryffindor."

"What?!" Harry gaped. He could practically feel Malfoy's smirk from the other side of Hagrid. As for fighting, Harry could barely see out of his right eye it was swollen so much, not to mention it hurt like hell. "But Malfoy- He- I was just-" To say it was unfair was an understatement. Malfoy had been antagonizing the fight, if he could just say that maybe McGonagall would understand.

Malfoy chuckled. "Well Potter, I guess you should have controlled you temper better."

McGonagall turned on the blond boy who suddenly stopped talking. "I wouldn't look so smug Malfoy, you're going to detention as well; and for that smart retort of yours, fifty points from Slytherin." The teen stammered, much like Harry had before, but she cut off any protests. "Harry may have hit you, however, you continued fighting, and fighting is strictly against the rules. It's hard enough to keep students up and feeling well with everything else that goes on here." She eyed both of them harshly and shook her head. "Sixth years at that. I would have hoped you would be able to control yourselves." Her lips were still pursed as she gave another good look over, eyes going up and down each bruised and battered boy, noting the blood that had dried down Malfoy's chin from his split lip and the trail coming out of Harry's ear from his head being smashed on the stone floor. "As for what the punishment will be, we'll talk to Dumbledore about that," she declared with an air of finality. She turned to Hagrid and nodded her head before turning around and walking toward the dinning hall, Hagrid kept his hands on their shoulders and pulled them in tow.

When they entered the dinning hall Harry saw only four students were sitting at the tables. Two at Ravenclaw, looking to be maybe a second and a third year; and two at Slytherin, two fourth years by the looks of it. He was the only one who was alone in his house. The four students had turned their heads up and were looking at the procession. Harry looked up at the teacher's table and saw two men seated there. Dumbledore, who looked at them inquisitively; and Snape, who was glaring maliciously at Harry as though he was the source of the trouble.

McGonagall led them straight up to the teacher's table before having Hagrid stop. "Dumbledore, I found these two," she gestured behind her with a swift hand movement. "Fighting like two rabid dragons in the halls. This has gone on too long, these two boys and their constant harassment of each other," she explained, moving to the side as the silver-haired man nodded in understanding.

"Ah, it would seem Professor McGonagall is quite right about this. The two of you have been fighting ever since you stepped foot into this school." The man stood and looked at each of them in turn before waving his hand, and Hagrid released them before moving to the side with McGonagall. "I was quite fine with leaving things as they were, considering you seemed to be doing well enough with your verbal banter back and fourth. However, we cannot tolerate fighting, it only shows me that if you remember you have your wands one day we may have a very unfortunate, irreversible incident on our hands." He spoke with a cool intensity that kept Harry and Malfoy rooted to the ground where they stood, unable to speak.

Harry was almost panicked. Was Dumbledore going to suspend them? Expel them?! It was only a fight, but Dumbledore seemed far more concerned about it than Harry thought he should be. And by the way Hagrid looked… None of the omens were good. Green eyes flickered over to Malfoy and it seemed that the other teen was just as concerned as he was, though he was managing to hide it well.

Dumbledore continued. "There is no need to worry about expulsion. Professor McGonagall just called for a detention of some kind, and I agree with her completely."

"But Potter started the fight!" Malfoy protested, but he did not step forward or make any other statement under the Head Master's gaze. No doubt he was hoping that Snape would come to his aid with the knowledge of Harry having been the first to strike, but Snape did not move or speak, he simply sat in his chair and stared at the two boys.

A few seconds passed before Dumbledore spoke again. "Maybe it's misunderstanding that makes you two dislike each other so, perhaps caused by the fact that you spare no more time together than it takes to throw sharp words and fists. As a result, a fitting punishment comes into mind." The older man eyed Snape and McGonagall who both nodded knowingly, Snape though rather reluctantly, looking at Malfoy as though he felt very sorry for the Slytherin student. "It will be a rather extended detention that will last the duration of this holiday. With hope that will be long enough." Brandishing his wand, he pointed it at the two boys. "_Vinculum!_" He said gravely. A cold tickle ran through Harry, starting at his head and running through his body, exiting through his fingertips and toes. Well, that wasn't too bad. Of course, that was not all. "The two of you are now under bonded quarantine."

"Are you serious!" "What's that mean?" The two boys said at once, Harry confused, Malfoy looking outraged.

"It means," Dumbledore said, eyeing them both sternly as he slid his wand away. "That you are stuck together. You have a six-foot leeway between you two, but you will not be permitted to go any farther. I ask you not to test these limitations, you will surely only make it worse for yourselves." He looked most utterly serious.

Harry turned and looked at Malfoy, a form of terror in his eyes. He had to spend his entire Christmas vacation six feet away from Malfoy! "How… What… When will we be able to go back to normal?" The Gryffindor asked hurriedly, already looking as though he would do anything to have Dumbledore just let him go. Malfoy looked the same.

Snape and McGonagall were still staring at their students. Dumbledore spoke to answer. "When you're ready," as all he said before sitting back down. "Now, I suggest you go ahead and eat some lunch, I suspect you're going to be very hungry when dinner rolls around." McGonagall and Hagrid took their seats as well. Harry gave Hagrid a pleading look, but the giant could only shrug his shoulders and look most sorry for the black-haired teen.

"Come on Potter, I'm hungry." Malfoy spun away and started storming off. He got to six feet and nothing happened. Maybe Dumbledore had been bluffing… But sure enough, when he passed they each jumped, feeling what appeared to be the slightest shock go through their bodies. Apparently it was a warning. Harry stayed where he was and Malfoy stopped before turning around, looking vicious. "Come on Potter!"

"I'm not going to eat at the Slytherin table," Harry said stiffly. The two teens glared daggers at each other. So began their Christmas vacation.

tbc...


	2. Sticky Situations

Title: Vinculum

Date: July 08, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warnings: None

-  
  
Sticky Situations  
  
After much deliberation (in which they had each just barely managed to keep themselves from hitting each other – as their Professors were sitting directly behind them), Harry and Malfoy found themselves grudgingly sitting on the floor, plates in their laps. Recalling the lasting argument, Harry remembered Malfoy's stubborn refusal to sit at "that trashy Gryffindor table," as he had called it; Harry had then suggested the Ravenclaw table that held two students, that proposal had also been shot down quickly with viciousness. With a clenched jaw and overly exasperated voice hissing through his teeth, Harry had then inquired about the Hufflepuff table and started walking toward it. Malfoy had not followed him, an aspect that became blatantly obvious when another shock ran through the Gryffindor's body, causing him to retreat back and spin around. The only reason they hadn't started shouting at each other was the same as why they didn't wrestle one another to the ground. With a huff, Harry had ended the argument by sitting on the floor, giving Malfoy no other choice than to stand while he ate, or join him. He had been halfway through his meal before the blond teen had relented to the later.  
  
Throughout his meal Harry's eyes flickered up towards the teacher's table, trying to catch Hagrid's attention. He highly doubted that Malfoy would be agreeing to go anywhere near Hagrid's house for the term of their vacation and with luck Harry would be able to make plans with the half-giant to meet somewhere on school grounds; or, at the least, talk for a bit after their meal, a meal that did not taste as good as he had been hoping it would. Nothing could be as good as it was suppose to be when Malfoy was sitting six feet away from you.  
  
Harry looked up from his plate dejectedly. The enchanted ceiling above showed the same grey-white clouds that had been hovering thickly outside his windows, seemingly to glow with light instead of letting it simply pass through. He had half been expecting to see darkness, having forgotten it was merely mid-day. His gaze went to Malfoy. Lunchtime of the first day of break and he had managed to get detention. And not just any detention, a lasting detention, and for who knew how long at that. If he hadn't thought he could feel any worse about being left alone for Christmas he was now feeling sick as well and was desperately hoping he could be left alone. The thought crossed his mind of sending Ron and Hermione letters, but Malfoy, who had looked up to glare at Harry, seemed to deduce what the black-haired teen was debating.  
  
"Don't even think about it Potter," Malfoy hissed, lowly enough so that no one else in the common room could hear. "The last thing I'm letting anybody know is that idiot Dumbledore has stuck me to an incompetent, psychotic, nitwit, twit like you because you hit me." His lips were pulled back in a rather horrible sneer, and had Harry been able to move any farther from the other he would have already been out the doors on the way back to his common. He was seriously starting to think he should have just gone down to the kitchens and asked the house elves for something to eat. If he had done that...if he had done that this whole mess would have been avoided. "Hear me Potter?" Malfoy said with a grimace.  
  
A sigh of agitation escaped Harry's lips as he returned his attention to his meal. "Yeah, yeah Malfoy. Why don't you shut up? Besides, unlike the people you hang out with, the people I know might be able to figure out how to get us out of this mess."  
  
"I do not believe that Ms. Granger or Mr. Weasley will be able to help you Potter," Snape said. The two boys looked up suddenly, having been too involved in being angry with each other to have been paying attention to what was going on around them. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall were gone, and it seemed the four other students there for the holidays were eating as slowly as possible to see what happened between the two sixth year students. The potions professor looked down at them, eyes going coldly from one to the other. "I don't think even I would have done something like this," he muttered. "I'm surprised Dumbledore isn't afraid you'll kill each other. Unless he's altered it..." He didn't seem to be aware of the two boys anymore and stood there for a few seconds before blinking and coming back to himself. Giving them one last look he swept away silently, leaving Harry and Malfoy with no adult supervision.  
  
Malfoy instantly turned on Harry. "This is all your fault Potter! You hit me first, but I get in trouble. Who does Dumbledore think he is? It's you who should be in trouble!"  
  
Harry growled. "Maybe if you had kept your bloody mouth shut!" He retorted, not having intended to speak so violently, but he couldn't seem to help himself. The longer he stayed in the vicinity of Malfoy the more his stomach crawled and the more he wanted to punch the other again. His strong dislike for Malfoy was sickeningly turning into something that more resembled hatred. It was disturbing him, but not enough for him to be able to cool himself off anymore.  
  
"Not to mention it was a cheap shot!" Malfoy shouted as he brought his own fist crashing forward, intending to hit Harry in the jaw, replicating what had been done to him.  
  
All those times Quiddich had saved him, and it came into play again. The sharp eyes he had developed from looking for the snitch had spotted the shift Malfoy had made and the motion of the his arm. Harry quickly scrambled back, ignoring the shocks that were running through his body, getting slowly worse with ever movement. For some reason Malfoy didn't look affected as he moved forward quickly, fist smashing into one of Harry's arms that he had held up to defend himself. Harry grimaced and Malfoy swore, clutching his own arm as well. The two paused and looked up at each other curiously, though by no means friendly.  
  
"Dumbledore's altering?" Harry wondered, but Malfoy just snorted and rubbed his own arm. The other four students in the room where whispering fiercely, and when the two sixth years looked up they quickly took their leave, the tables having long since been cleared of food. Without a doubt the tale of their detention would not go untold. With luck people wouldn't remember by the time school started again. After a minute or so they moved back to where they had been and Malfoy sat back down. They sat in silence, Harry poking at his food, no longer feeling hungry; Malfoy did nothing, and simply sat, straight backed, glaring at Harry as though if he did it right he could blow the other's head up. He looked so determined that Harry could almost have sworn his hair began to heat up and he suddenly jumped to his feet, his plate disappearing as soon as he left it. "Get up Malfoy."  
  
The teen in question looked up with narrowed eyes. "Why should I Potter?"  
  
Harry remembered the small 'Ten Ways to Keep Cool' book Hermione had given to him as one of his presents for his birthday. He took a deep breath and counted to ten, wondering why he couldn't have remembered the book when he had first run into his Slytherin foe. "To go to the library," he stated stiffly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Malfoy looked at him with the same glare, no understanding showing on his face. Harry took another deep breath and continued. "Maybe we can find out what spell Dumbledore put on us and can figure out how to break it."  
  
Malfoy snorted, but he stood and dusted himself off anyway. "Going to the library without your little Mudblood. This must be a big step for you Potter," he sneered viciously, his eyes glimmering with enjoyment of his own comment.  
  
"Someday you're going to regret every insult you've given out," Harry shot back heatedly.  
  
"Is that a threat?"  
  
Glaring at his blond nemesis, Harry smiled, though it was obviously strained and anything but kind. "You bet Malfoy." He took a moment to flick invisible dirt from his robe and looked up again. "So, are we going? Or do you want to sit around here all day exchanging death threats?" He asked testily. Of course, considering what had been happening lately, any threats they made would most likely quickly become attempts instead of discussions. Malfoy didn't even bother to answer him, he simply glared and then brushed past Harry, quickly making his way out of the hall. Not wishing to suffer from any consequences of Dumbledore's spell, Harry hurried and follow.  
  
At first he thought he would stay behind the other as far as he could, make an attempt to be away from Malfoy and look like he was actually on his own. It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that he would look like a servant boy following his master through the halls, and he walked forward faster until he was walking beside Malfoy, though keeping his distance as much as he could. Suddenly it had become a great boon that the halls were silent and abandoned of students.  
  
The library was just as empty and left the two to explore and look where they please. Unfortunately the inability to move an acceptable distance away from each other limited the whereabouts and reach of their search. They had been looking for roughly an hour, and hour during which neither of them spoke, and had found nothing. Harry finally grabbed Hogwarts, A History, remembering how much help they had received from Hermione, who seemingly had memorized the entire thing. Looking up, he had to be surprised that Malfoy was dedicatedly looking through books, he had not complained once about how useless their work seemed to be. But, of course, they were stuck together and Malfoy, no doubt, was just as willing as Harry to spend as much time possible to find out how to reverse the spell.  
  
However, they had still not found anything four hours later. Hogwarts, A History had been surprisingly useless. Books were piled in high stacks around them, blocking each other from sight. Ever inch of the table top was covered and Harry had a few more down by his feet. Too Close for Comfort; Not so Cruel, but Unusual Punishments; Spells of the Weird; Unusual Glues; all lay uselessly amongst dozens others. Anything and everything that sounded as though it might have a trace of what they were looking for.  
  
Harry sat back and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes that were aching with all the reading. His head thudded dully and he was wondering if it was possible to smell like a book. From behind books there was a thud as another closed and Malfoy groaned. "This is completely useless Potter. Why did I ever let you talk me into this?" There was a pause and the brushing sound of a book being slid across the table before Malfoy continued. "Is this what you and those numb-brained friends of yours do all the time? No wonder you're all so boring," he groaned.  
  
"What else is there to do?" Harry asked after taking a deep breath, as he leaned down and picked up another book from the floor. He couldn't remember picking the book out. Then again, they had just been taking piles of books off the shelves to look at, not much caring what they were. He cracked it open and started to look through, skimming over the pages quickly. Five hours of research taught a person how to look for a specific item.  
  
A dull thud sounded, presumably Malfoy falling against the back of his chair and abandoning his search, he didn't comment on Harry's question. Apparently he didn't have any better ideas, seeing as the professors who they would have asked for help were the ones who had put them in the situation to begin with. Abandoning the book he was looking at as a lost cause, Harry tossed it away, wanting to stop looking as well and wondering why they couldn't find anything. Maybe the spell was a special one Dumbledore had made up?  
  
"Bloody hell Potter! Don't throw books around!" Malfoy swore after a thud.  
  
With a sigh Harry pushed his seat back. There was a time to admit defeat, at least for the day. They could start looking tomorrow. Though the thought made him groan. He had spent vacations researching before, but he had Ron and Hermione to talk with during those hours, and they had managed to go out and do other things as well. Even if he did have to stick with Malfoy, the thought of which was still sour, at least they could try to do something. He thought of having to spend the night with Malfoy and hesitated. "We still have a few hours to dinner. Let's just keep it up. I'm sure we have to come across something." Was he having what appeared to be a normal conversation with Malfoy?  
  
Malfoy snorted. "No way. I'm fed up with this! That quack Dumbledore probably took out all the books with it in it. Just the kind of sick thing he would do."  
  
"Don't call Dumbledore a quack Malfoy."  
  
A large book came hurtling over the wall of research that separated them and smacked Harry in the head before falling in front of him. "Don't be such a child. Crabbe and Goyle are starting to become more mature than you."  
  
"At least I don't hang out with Mudbloods."  
  
"I told you not to call her that!"  
  
Another book came sailing over the pile. However, this time Harry had time to duck. Forehead touching the book in front of him, the second still hit the back of his chair, bounced against his back, and fell to the floor. "What's wrong with you-" He stopped, eyes fixed on a segment he had seen in the process of sitting up, of the first book Malfoy had thrown. "Wait..." he murmured softly, having heard the other push his chair back and stand.  
  
"Why should I, Potter?"  
  
Harry went over the beginning of the page and he looked up quickly, grin on his face. "I found it. Or, at least something that sounds like it." Malfoy raised his eyebrows, but hurried around to his side of the table and they both started to read. It sounded like the same thing. The spell was Vinculum, it bonded two people together within a certain distance as decided by the person who gave the spell. The chapter read that it was not often used considering there weren't many reasons to do so. However, it was used to bond a prisoner to a captive so that the prisoner wouldn't be able to run away, for the one who ran was the one who felt the shock of the bond. Logically, the further the two (or however many people) got from each other, the more the shock would increase. Vinculum declined in such use however when too many prisoners started finding ways out. It seemed killing the captive or the person who had preformed the spell, were the two most popular.  
  
The two kept reading, Harry personally hoping to find some better news and found it a little further down. It seemed that Vinculum could only be performed on people who did not wish to be together. So, if it was performed on friends or loved ones, the spell would not work. Accordingly, the second way to break the spell with it not being taken off, was to become friends. The book said it was a rare occurrence and, because those under the spell already had disagreements, it was more likely that they would kill each other than become friends; though it had happened in a few cases in which the spell was left on long enough. The section ended rather abruptly. Harry and Malfoy looked up at the same time, both dissatisfied with what they had read.  
  
"Well that was helpful," Malfoy said, voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
Harry sighed, more than disappointed with the results of their search. At least they knew how to break it. But, considering Dumbledore didn't look like he was going to let up until at least the end of the holidays, and Malfoy was as likely to become his friend as Voldermort, Harry felt a little more than disturbed. Of course, Malfoy wouldn't kill him. ...right? He eyed the other teen and felt nervous, maybe leaving the library would let him think about something else. "Let's go to dinner. I'm starved." He stood, closed the volume, and they made their way to the exit. On the table, on the cover of the closed, leather bound book in pearly lettering on the cover reading Sticky Situations.  
  
tbc...


	3. Bunkmates

Title: Vinculum

Date: July 16, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warnings: SPOILERS (for #5 – Order of the Phoenix)

-  
  
Bunkmates  
  
Dinner was held in discontented silence. They once again sat on the floor, each glaring fiercely at the other when they started to their respectable tables. The professors weren't there, in fact, neither were the four other students who were at Hogwarts for the holidays. Harry, having forgotten to look at the clock on the way out of the library rightly assumed that they were late. No doubt Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Hagrid would simply think that they didn't want to be seen in public so close to each other. As for the other four students, who could care less about what they thought?  
  
Harry had stabbed at his food gloomily, angry at Malfoy for having to be such a prat, leading to them being in the situation, and at the fact that they were only going to get out once Dumbledore decided it was time...or Malfoy killed him. Getting out of the library had not stopped the black- haired teen from having the possibility run through his head, frankly it had killed his appetite.  
  
Shoving his plate from him Harry rested his head on his hands and glared across the room as Malfoy took his time finishing his meal. He felt irritated, having not left the building the entire day. He wanted to do something, to go outside, to visit Hagrid and complain that he had been left alone without Ron or Hermione. The thought to ask Malfoy to do this did not even cross Harry's mind, the blond Slytherin would probably just laugh in his face until he was too weak to stand. The thought was not pleasing and almost made Harry want to hit the other even though nothing had happened yet.  
  
It seemed like hours passed until Malfoy wiped his mouth and pushed the plate away. The contents and plate disappeared. Harry knew about the house elves underneath and the long tables there that mimicked the ones above, it made him think of S.P.E.W. and Hermione, and the of Ron, and he gave an exasperated sigh of loss for his two friends. This was so unfair. He rubbed his eyes, finding it hard to concentrate. The hours in the library had started giving him a headache, glasses or no glasses, and all he really wanted to do was go climb into his bed and fall asleep. Maybe he would wake up at the beginning of the day to find that none of it had happened yet, that he would be able to avoid everything. Maybe this whole day had been a long premonition dream, disregarding the fact that he did not have premonitions.  
  
Turning to Malfoy, Harry found the other boy glaring over at the empty teacher's table, specifically, Dumbledore's seat. "Let's go to bed Malfoy," he said coldly, standing up impatiently. He did not want to wait around for the other all night. He was finding out that it was not a great thing after all to allow the person standing still to feel nothing. God, what if he had to go to the bathroom at one point and Malfoy just stood in the hall, not letting Harry go? The thought was childish, but Harry didn't think it would be under the Slytherin to do something of the sort.  
  
Malfoy turned his head slowly to look at Harry and sneered. "So early Potter? You ready to go to bed and cry your little eyes out over Mommy and Daddy's murders?" A sadistic grin was pulled over Malfoy's lips and Harry stood, trembling from anger. "Need to make sure you're up in your bed under the covers before all the lights go out?"  
  
"Shut up Malfoy."  
  
"Mommy! Daddy! Don't go! Don't let Lord Voldermort take you! I can't believe I'm all alone now!" Malfoy mocked, voice an octave higher than normal, he had stood by then, his silver eyes glinting with their own frustrated anger. Neither boy was particularly angry at the other, but between originally not enjoying each other's presence and having to spend the entire day together, and finding out there was indeed nothing that they could do about getting free, it was enough to spin things out of proportion for both of them, neither needed another reason to fight.  
  
Harry's hands had balled up into fists that were so tight his knuckles were turning white. "Shut up Malfoy!" He growled, green eyes glinting in the great hall's candle-light dangerously.  
  
"Woe is me, woe is me! My life is sodding horrible! Please save me Dumbledore! Save me from my stupid nightmares about mummy and daddy. Help me stop crying like a little baby. You're the only one who could tell that I was sane, even though I'm really not!"  
  
"Shut up!" Harry shouted, swinging his fist at Malfoy. He managed to punch him in the cheek again, but they both staggered back at the force, Harry's hand going up to his own jaw. Malfoy was already launching back and smashed his fist into Harry's stomach; the breath rushed out of both of them. They had their row and ended up panting on the floor, neither beaten up as badly as they had been before because now half of the punches they had received were from themselves and not visible.  
  
Fifteen minutes later Malfoy pushed himself to his feet and glared down at Harry. "Where are we suppose to sleep?" He asked grudgingly. "Because I'm not sleeping in that fowl place you call the Gryffindor house."  
  
Harry growled at the other boy and shoved himself from the ground. They were almost the exact same height which made it perfect for them to glare menacingly at each other. "I'm sure as hell not sleeping in those dungeons you call home. From where you live it's no wonder you have the mentality of a troll," he shot back. Somewhere in the back of his mind he warned himself to calm down and tried to tell himself he was being more mean than Malfoy was, but he didn't listen to it. The day had gone on far too long.  
  
Malfoy sniffed indignantly, jaw clenched. "Fine Potter, if you can't deal with the pressure, we'll sleep in that deserted hole your friends left you in. Let's go get my things." With that the blond swept by Harry angrily, crossing the border of six feet, but he didn't stop. A small twinge of shock went through Harry and he jumped to his senses and followed, quickly closing the distance between them back to safety.  
  
They walked briskly and in silence, each almost twitching with anger, but neither so much as looking at the other. The halls grew darker and colder, the only other time Harry had been ear the Slytherin entrance was when he and Ron had turned into Crabbe and Goyle in order to try to find out who the Slytherin heir was from Malfoy. Harry tried to remember the turns and they went along, his anger fading the more he concentrated on remembering how they had gotten to where they were. Soon enough they were standing in front of the Slytherin entrance. Malfoy gave Harry and viscous look and bent forward to whisper the password into the portrait's ear. The painting swung forward and revealed the entrance to both boys.  
  
It had not changed any from when Harry had last been there, not that he had much time to look around as it was. Malfoy stormed straight up to his room and Harry was quick to follow, wanting to get in, grab Malfoy's things, and get out as quickly as possible. The room that they entered was large, with numerous four-poster beds like the Gryffindor's rooms. The colors, of course, were green and silver instead of red and gold; and the room was far darker than that of the Gryffindor's. There was no warm feeling of fun and love, but instead it was rather brooding, and damp. There was a fireplace that the only light for the room came from, except that of two windows, enchanted to look outside, currently the drapes were pulled.  
  
Harry followed Malfoy to one of the beds in the back corner and stopped dead when Malfoy simply threw himself on top of the bed and stared at the ceiling. He waited, but the blond boy did nothing other than shift slightly to get into a more comfortable position. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had know that this was going to happen. How would Malfoy have come all the way down here, get to his room, and then actually go back up to the Gryffindor common? There had never been a chance. "Where the hell am I suppose to sleep?" Harry asked roughly. The closest bed was about seven feet away, and though that probably wouldn't be that painful, it sure as hell might give him a heart attack if he kept it up all night.  
  
"The floor. Like a good dog Potter," Malfoy sneered in response before getting out of bed and going over to the table about a foot away. When he stood in front of it a sink appeared, as did a small cupboard with a mirror. He pulled open the cupboard door and took out a took brush and took paste, completely ignoring Harry.  
  
Tensed for another fight, but too tired and still too achy to get involved in one Harry eyed the closest bed and brandished his wand. Muttering a spell lowly under his breath the bed moved towards Malfoy's a few feet, enough so that he would be able to sleep on it. Taking in account rolling around...the beds ended up only being about two feet apart. Not bothering to look at Malfoy, Harry undressed down to his pants. As an eleven year old when Harry had come to Hogwarts he had been scrawny, thin, and a good runner, but his body had no signs of muscle. Though still thinner than a boy his height probably should be, five and a half years of Quidditch had treated him well. Muscles were pronounce in his arms and back, his abdomen had etches of muscle, and he still knew he had the power of a runner in his legs. Quickly he folded up the rest of his clothes and placed them at the foot of the bed on the floor, slightly underneath. Standing, he ran a hand through his unruly hair and climbed up onto the bed, sliding under the thick green, silver, and black blankets. He rolled over, back to the blond who was still brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed.  
  
Sleep was as bad as staying awake. Learning Occlumency meant that he was saved from people entering his mind, meant that Voldermort couldn't send him any more manipulative dreams, but it did not stop his own mind from conjuring dreams. Sirius plagued him. Plagued him in his sleep like he had every night since the man had died. Since Harry had killed him. He didn't care what Dumbledore told him, it had still been his stupidity, his refusal to practice Occlumency that ended up leading to Sirius's death. He woke up in the middle of the night, cold and shivering, not know where he was. Looking around hastily he suddenly remembered what had happened and where he was. Green eyes flickered over to eye Malfoy in the bed next to him. The blond teen had his back to Harry, breathing steady, deep in sleep. Harry sighed in relief and sank back into the bed. The last thing he needed happening was Malfoy learning that he actually did have nightmares, that his scar really did hurt, and that he really did wake up crying sometimes. Throwing his arms over his eyes, he tried to fall back asleep.  
  
The days passed agonizingly slowly. Whatever Dumbledore had hoped the spell would do, Harry doubted that it was working how it had been planned out. With each passing day Harry and Malfoy became increasingly agitated with each other. It only took a single misplaced word that set one or the other off into shouts. They had rows, despite the special addition Dumbledore had added; but Snape was right, it kept them from killing each other.  
  
The nights became progressively worse. Harry often woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares, but often meant possibly two or three times a week; he had days of peace. Harry had consented to stay in the Slytherin dungeons after getting some clothes to keep down there, it had been decided after a rather rough row, they had been closer to the Slytherin common than Gryffindor and crawled there to lay down and ache for the rest of the day. The dungeons and stress caused by being with Malfoy constantly seemed to have made his dreams worse, make them more prominent. He woke up each night, skin slick with sweat, blankets in disarray. It was only a thankful wonder that Malfoy never woke up, he was a heavy sleeper.  
  
Harry hid behind the desk as the Death Eater made the slashing motion with his wand, it killed Hermione, she lay bleeding everywhere, her blood all over Harry as he ran forward, trying to do something. Neville told him that it was hopeless, tugging at his robe, telling him she was dead. Ron, in his high, wandered to the brains and picked one up. The tentacles wrapped around him and he fell to the floor; within moments he lost the battle with the brain and lay on the stone floor twitching as it took over his mind and tried to move his body around. Neville was running with Harry and slipped on the blood from his own broken nose, he fell back and his head crashed into the ground, cracking his head with a sickening smack; blood formed a grotesque halo around his head and he did not move, his chest not even motioning breath. Luna Lovegood went through the wrong door and an ax fell suddenly from the ceiling and cut her straight in half. Sirius died. The fall was slow, slow enough for Harry to catch him, but he was grounded, unable to do anything but scream. The Death Eaters came back to life and slaughtered the rest of them, Lupin, Mad Eye, Arthur, all dead. Harry ran upstairs and, Dumbledore lost to Voldermort, his crushed, twisted, mangled body lay half-in half-out of the fountain, blood turning the floor and the water red. Voldermort walked toward Harry who was held down by his statue guardian who had fallen stiffly on his leg when Dumbledore died. The snake faced man smirked down at Harry and pulled out his wand. "Crucio."  
  
Christmas Eve found Harry screaming himself awake, face wet with tears, flesh drenched in sweat, sheets sticky and twisted around him so tight he was about to choke, his body ached as though in memory of the endless curse Voldermort had been performing. Despite the fact that his skin was no doubt burning to the touch, his shivered as he clawed out of his sheets. He wanted to walk over to the window and look out, let the breeze wash over his face and look out over the grounds, but there were no breezes in dungeons, and the window was too far away for him to go. Harry instead turned his head to sneak a look at Malfoy who was asleep. He would have wondered how the other could have slept through his scream of bloody murder had he been able to think straight.  
  
There were no clocks around, but Harry would have the guess that it was early morning, near three or so. Pulling the blankets up around his shoulders he brought his knees to his chest, hung his head down so that his forehead rested on his knees, and sat awake, not daring to fall asleep again. Harry spent the hours trying to free his mind of all thought, as Professor Snape taught him to do in Occlumency lessons. Whenever he was almost there another image of a dead friend appeared in his mind. It made him remember Mrs. Weasley's account with the bogart, seeing all of her family members dead. The shivering didn't stop until the window behind the drapes started to lighten slowly with the coming dawn.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you already doing up Potter? The kiddy ready to start opening his presents, couldn't wait any longer?" Malfoy asked, sneer in his voice even despite the fact that he had just woken up. The sun was now almost, if not fully out.  
  
Harry lifted his head slowly from his knees. "Shut the hell up Malfoy," he responded with welling viciousness in his voice as he turned to look at the Slytherin. Malfoy had looked as though he were going to toss out another rude retort, but he didn't. I must look that horrible. Harry mused to himself, not amused by the fact. He felt like he had a run in with a giant without his wand with him. He did turn his gaze to the foot of his bed however and had to say that he was surprised to see presents at the foot of his bed, a large pile sat waiting for Malfoy as well.  
  
Malfoy seemed to hesitate almost before diving into the first of his presents, ignoring Harry. Said Gryffindor slowly, almost laboriously, pulled a present forward. It was from Hermione. A Hawaiian shirt and flip flops along with a letter that said she was enjoying herself and was sorry that he couldn't come with her. The next was from Ron; it was a miniature clock like the one Mrs. Weasley had, it had all of the Weasleys on it (excluding Percy) as well as Hermione, Hagrid, and Dumbledore; he got a letter from Ron as well that explained that he had wanted to ask him to come to the Burrow, but his mother had told him that it wouldn't be possible. Pig had gotten a little lost sending a letter to Mr. Weasley and so he hadn't been able to send any letters until now, he wanted to know what had happened that stopped him from coming. Mrs. Weasley gave him the standard Weasley sweater as well as a variety of pastries and a card that wish him luck, apparently Dumbledore had told her that he was in detention at the least. Hagrid gave him a new Magical Creatures book, it was pretty thin, and a letter that told him to come and visit as soon as he could (and he understood if it wasn't until after the holidays).  
  
Throughout the whole of unwrapping presents Harry didn't hear one peep from Malfoy. No sniggering, or under-breath whispered insults regarding his presents. Opening his gifts had managed to pull Harry out of the stupor of his dreams to an extent and he looked over at his bunkmate who was just finishing unwrapping as well. He looked up when he was finished and they stared at each other.  
  
It was probably just the Christmas spirit, but they didn't start glaring until halfway through breakfast.


	4. Relinquish

Title: Vinculum

Date: July 16, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warnings: SPOILERS (for #5 – Order of the Phoenix)

-  
  
Relinquish  
  
Harry's dreams did not get any better after Christmas. He found himself waking everyday, either screaming or struggling too hard for breath to utter any words. More often than not his face was wet with tears, but he couldn't bring himself to cry while he was awake, it meant that he had to face it all for real, that the possibilities were there. The dreams had moved from the sickening version of the night of Sirius's death re-lived; to anything from Voldermort bursting into Hogwarts and killing everyone, ripping their limbs apart, pealing off their skin, using Avada Kadavra; to Death Eaters bursting into the Burrow when Harry and Hermione stayed with the Weasleys; to the entire group of the Order being ambushed and slaughtered; to Voldermort coming into the Dursley's house, despite its protective magic, and shouting out an endless Crucio curse.  
  
He tried not to sleep at night. He would crawl into bed and turn his back to Malfoy and stare across the room until he heard the other boy slide into the world of his own dreams before sitting up and trying to quietly keep himself busy and awake. His head hurt constantly, and he could only assume it was from lack of sleep, reading so much at night, and the dull ache that seemed to plague is scar. A constant state of exhaustion kept him from doing occlumency before he slept, and kept his angry retorts pathetically dull and slow. Malfoy, seeming to sense the lack of will behind his adversary and the damper it put to their fighting, had become increasingly quiet, his sneers almost dying down completely. Even when Harry fell asleep at the table in the middle of their meals and woke suddenly, Malfoy would say nothing, eating as though he didn't notice.  
  
It was amazing how grateful Harry felt for the other's fallen silence. He barely had the energy to get around the school for their mundane tasks that they did, much less get in rows with Malfoy constantly. He sent owls to Ron and Hermione to make sure that they didn't worry about him, but the letters were short and he knew they sounded hollow. Ever since Sirius's death he had felt himself distanced from them, or maybe he had done it to himself, and he hoped they just took the emptiness as being that.  
  
The days slid by and Harry couldn't tell whether the vacation had been a blur, or gone by agonizingly slowly. Two days before the vacation was to end, the day before students would start coming back to school, Harry and Malfoy were sitting in the Slytherin common. Malfoy was playing wizard's chest against a jinxed board, and Harry was trying not to fall asleep. The portrait opened and Malfoy looked up, but Harry didn't stir, he had finally fallen asleep. It was Snape who entered, his eyes landing first on Harry, and furrowing, and then on Malfoy. He approached the second boy quickly, not bothering to wake the Gryffindor up. "Dumbledore was called away on an emergency Ministry call, he had to leave this morning, and you didn't show up to breakfast..."  
  
"You mean were stuck like this?" Malfoy asked. He realized that he didn't sound as disgusted as he should be and hoped that Snape hadn't caught it.  
  
He hadn't. "He said that you were both doing very well and he reversed the spell before he left. McGonagall and I would have told you at lunch, but it seemed we missed you there as well. I thought you would rather know sooner than later however." His cold eyes flickered to Harry before going back to Malfoy. "You can tell Potter whenever you want." He paused to look around the common before once again addressing the Slytherin student. "That was all Malfoy. It's a shame that your Christmas had to be spent in such a way." He glared once more at the sleeping, and slightly twitching Harry, before briskly leaving the common room and exiting the Slytherin house.  
  
Malfoy looked over at the raven-haired boy who had fallen asleep in the large chair closest to the one he sat in. Every night he woke up to Harry thrashing in the bed next to him; he would listen to the Gryffindor boy cry out, and eventually wake with a start that was often accompanied by a scream of agonizing terror as well. The dreams, scratch that, nightmares, had become worse after Christmas. That's when the screaming had started. He had to admit, though completely and privately to himself, that it was a relief to see the other teen sleeping peacefully, even if it only lasted a few minutes, seeing as Harry had taken to staying up at night as well. It had been hard not to notice the light that would flicker on right as he began to fall asleep as Harry started some late night activity. Malfoy couldn't help but wonder if the stories had been al that far off when they said Harry Potter was mentally unstable. It seemed it would be impossible not to be with nightmares like his.  
  
Each morning the Gryffindor looked worse, more run down and exhausted, his brilliant green eyes had become faded and dull. When Harry's verbal fights had simmered down to murmured 'shut up's, Malfoy had started to back off. It was true that he had once held his father as an icon of everything he wanted to be and treated other people in imitation of how his father would, but as of the year prior, when he had been caught and sent to Azkaban he had fallen from the pedestal that he had been on. Malfoy had known his father was a Death Eater, he had been brought up learning the power of the Dark Lord and taught that he was the greatest man alive. However, he had never known if he was truly as dedicated to the Dark Lord as he was his father, and the years in Hogwarts had made him even less sure of exactly who he was dedicated to and the truth or lies behind each icon.  
  
Many times Malfoy tried to speak to Snape during the first few years at Hogwarts, of the potions professor's experiences with the Dark Lord; but it had not been until his father was sent to Azkaban and Malfoy took the time to speak much more privately with Snape that the man told him more. The discussions had turned Malfoy even further away from the Dark Lord, especially when he learned that, since joining Dumbledore, Snape never even considered going back into servitude again. Spending the whole of Christmas vacation with Harry and just listening to what his nightmares did to him slashed what could have been left of his praises of Voldermort.  
  
Malfoy inspected Harry's wild raven hair that had seemed to become even more unruly with lack of sleep and added strain that his nightmares were obviously putting on him, the other had bags that looked like dark bruises under each eye, and his skin was sallow. As he watched, Harry started to fidget, sweat started to break out on his face and neck, his eyes squeezed shut. Unable to stand witnessing another nightmare, the Slytherin stood and walked over; he put a hand on Harry's shoulder and shook the other teen. "Wake up Potter."  
  
Dying green eyes snapped open and darted around wildly, a disturbingly prominent fear flashed through his eyes and face before it flickered away and he realized who was standing in front of him, he calmed quickly. "What do you want Malfoy?" His voice was heavy with exhaustion, and his gaze went to the hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I was waking you up," Malfoy explained, having to add exasperation to his voice as he quickly withdrew his hand. "Dumbledore left this morning and reversed the spell."  
  
Harry blinked slowly at Malfoy, as though he didn't understand what the other had said and then nodded, just as slowly. "Alright," he muttered, pushing himself from the chair and brushing past Malfoy as he moved to the room they slept in to grab his things that were there before going off to his own house.  
  
Malfoy found himself feeling a perturbing feeling of loss while he watched the other come back into the room and push his way out of the portrait and out into the hall without even saying a grumbled 'good bye' before leaving. He snorted at himself for being so ridiculous and returned to his chess game. What was the matter with him? He should have been bursting with delight at the fact that he was away from the other teen. Shaking his head he forced himself to focus on his game.  
  
- - - - -  
  
Harry felt oddly alone as he stumbled through the halls toward the Gryffindor tower. He hadn't noticed how use he had gotten to having Malfoy around until he found it distressingly silent without the other's footsteps padding along side his own. Tiredly he thought back on the time that they had spent together and realized, for the first time it seemed, that they had stopped fighting somewhere along the way. How had Dumbledore known that it would work, sticking them next to each other for some two weeks or so? He thought back and another detail dawned on him. The fact that they had really settled down after Christmas. After his nightmares had started to become worse; after he started screaming himself awake. But Malfoy had never woken up.  
  
Dimly he felt like the biggest idiot ever. How could Malfoy have not woken up? Ron woke up when Harry was just muttering in his sleep, and he had thought Malfoy could sleep through shouts? He had probably just wanted to believe that far more than actually facing what was realistic, even now he didn't want to think about the taunts that Malfoy would start up once the vacation ended. Of course, the only reason he stopped was because it was the only way to get Dumbledore to think they were ready to have the spell lifted and allow them to get on with their own lives.  
  
He didn't remember the walk up to Gryffindor tower, nor did he remember muttering the password and stumbling up to his bed where he promptly threw himself and fell asleep, falling into unconsciousness before his head even hit the pillow. Pure exhaustion allowed for several hours of solid, death- like sleep, black and dreamless. However, as his mind became rested, the nightmares came.  
  
Hagrid called out a 'good-bye' as Harry left the hut, invisibility cloak pulling safely around his body. The door shut behind him, leaving the only lights coming from through the windows of the hut and from Hogwarts. It was just enough to make his way back to the school, like it always was, but he did not automatically turn and go back up to the school. Something rustled on the boarder of the forest and Harry turned to face it. The rustling stopped, and for what must have been a full minute there was silence. There was another rustle and Harry finally made out the shape of a large black dog, his heart clenched and the dog turned and raced into the forest. He didn't hesitate a moment before plowing after Sirius, happiness bursting in his chest like nothing he had ever felt in his life before. He followed the sounds of the dog deep into the forest, not caring that he didn't know where he was going or how to get back, the only thing that mattered was getting to Sirius.  
  
The sounds ahead stopped as soon as Harry burst into a small clearing. He walked forward a few feet and stopped when he saw Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, the Weasleys hung with nooses tight around their bruised necks, he turned in a circle in place, gaze landing on Lupin, Mad Eye, Tonks, Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Cho all hanging. Anybody he remotely cared about. Returning to his original position he stared directly across the clearing and saw the large black dog that was Sirius had been gutted and his skin was on a stretcher, drying, its hollow sockets gaped at Harry as though asking why. The clearing shimmered in a liquid glow. Horrified, Harry moved forward and bent down to touch the ground. When he lifted his hand it was covered in blood. He looked up and saw each of his friends who had previously been hanging were also gutted, it was their blood that surrounded him. A familiar, low, sadistic laughter filled his ears. Screaming soon rose over the laughter.  
  
Harry woke up to the scream, his mouth hanging open, throat parched raw. His stomach twisted sickeningly and he stumbled up out of bed and got about a meter from his bed before he bent over and vomited until he had nothing left in his stomach. Unable to make himself move, he bent down to a crouch, arms loosely wrapped around his knees, the revolting taste of vomit lingering in his mouth, and the nauseating smell rushing in his nose with every jagged breath. His clothes were stuck to him with drying sweat, and he shivered almost violently.  
  
Loud pounding that sounded like footsteps rushed up the stairs, which was odd because nobody else was there, and suddenly Ron burst into the room, face red, breathing hard; his eyes widened in shock at what he saw. "Oh Merlin mate," he said, voice low as he rushed over. "What happened? I heard you screaming when I came in," he explained, moving around the mess on the floor and putting his hands on Harry's shoulders to help him to his feet, his brows were furrowed in concern.  
  
"Nothing..." Harry breathed, voice hoarse. He glanced at Ron who settled him with something close to a glare and he sighed and finally answered. "Nightmare."  
  
Ron shook his head gravely. "Come on, let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," he said, starting them toward the door.  
  
The shorter teen didn't move. "No. I'm fine," he said, trying to pull back, even though he felt he might fall without the other's support. The red-head settled him with another flat look, he had become far bolder over the summer and the beginning of their sixth year, it was surprising and had started to get him a lot of attention from the girls. "Really Ron. I just...I just need to wake myself up."  
  
"You look like you've been awake for days Harry. What's been going on?" He asked, but he did stop trying to drag his friend out the door and instead helped Harry to his bed where he sat down heavily. Turning to the mess on the floor he took out his wand and shortly cleaned it up before turning back to Harry. "Hm?" He pressed.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Ron, please. I...I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Do you remember the last time you threw up when you had a dream? Don't you think you should talk to somebody at least?" The standing Gryffindor demanded, he sounded so similar to Hermione and Harry couldn't help but wonder exactly how much time they were spending together when Harry wasn't around.  
  
"This is different. It's not him, Ron. Voldermort's not making me dream things anymore," he assured, not that he really knew. He couldn't remember the last time he had done occlumency before he had gone to bed, he was too exhausted to do it, he fell asleep without time enough before to do anything. Besides, there was far too much that he was thinking about, he doubted he would have been able to do it if he took half his thoughts from his mind. "Just let it go. Please?"  
  
There must have been something in the way that Harry asked, because Ron did not press the matter any further, he just sighed. "You really do look like you haven't been sleeping. Why don't you go back to bed?" He suggested. "The others are down at dinner, I came up early to find you. I'll tell Hermione that you're sleeping and not to bother you. How does that sound?" He asked, smiling at the waxen teen.  
  
Harry nodded after a moment, it seemed to have taken him a long time to register what Ron had been saying. Without a doubt Hermione would be told a whole lot more than Harry was just sleeping. He would have to build himself up for a lecture from the girl when he finally saw her. "No, I'll go down to dinner," he said, looking back up at the other. His stomach growled as though to prove he wanted and needed something to eat. He was pushing himself from the bed to stand when something suddenly struck him. He had slept for more than a full twenty-four hours. Just how tired had he been?  
  
After changing into clean clothes quickly and throwing some cold water on his face to wake himself up and, with hope, make him look more alive, Harry met Ron in the common room and they made their way to the hall to eat. The hall was full of students and noise, all talking about what they had done over their winter breaks. Harry suddenly remembered the fact that there had been Christmas and turned to Ron, giving a smile he didn't know where he pulled from, he thanked the other for his gift. "It's really neat. Going to sit right next to my bed so that I can always keep an eye on everybody," he said, trying to get his cheer up before he sat down with all the other Gryffindors.  
  
Ron beamed. "Yeah, I did it by myself for the most part. Mum helped me with a little bit of it, but not much. You're always staring at ours and I thought you'd like it."  
  
When they sat down at the Gryffindor table Hermione and Ron were on Harry's left, Neville on his right. Everybody started talking quickly, welcoming Harry and asking him how Christmas had been at the school. He smiled, though his eyes were still as dull as fake planets, and told them that everything had gone by wonderfully, that the hall had been beautiful like always, and asked them in turn about their vacations.  
  
As they answered, Hermione going off first, Harry ate slowly, eyes bobbing around the hall. He saw some Slytherins talking to the two younger years who had stayed behind, they were turning to look at Harry and Malfoy and whispering furiously. Well, that story was out in the open then. The two Ravenclaws who had stayed were doing the same thing.  
  
At one point he caught Malfoy's silver eyes and they held for a few moments, Malfoy neither sneering or looking menacing, if anything he almost looked curious. Harry was the first to look away when Hermione asked briskly if he was listening. He looked at her and nodded, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth and falling back to his plate when an image of her gutted and cleaned flashed through his mind. It was all he could do to stay at the table and not vomit, and somehow he even managed to act interested in their vacations as well.  
  
tbc...  
  
Note: No need to worry, the title is still in effect.


	5. Reasons

Title: Vinculum

Date: July 16, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warnings: SPOILERS (for #5 – Order of the Phoenix)

-  
  
Reasons  
  
They ran into Malfoy and his gang outside the hall's large doors. It was an encounter that was unavoidable, but one Harry had wanted to stall nonetheless; he still had his doubts about Malfoy sleeping through his nightmares and was not looking forward to the taunts that would be coming if he was right. Ron and Hermione both stiffened, as though readying themselves for an attack, Harry simply stood, glaring at the blond. However, there was no verbal strike from the blond Slytherin, he simply stared intently at Harry for a few moments before sniffing and turning away. His band of loyal followers hesitated, confused, but when he made no motions of turning around they quickly followed suit and walked away.  
  
Ron and Hermione eyed each other before turning their gazes to Harry, their confusion showing in their faces. Harry hid his under the calm glare he was still digging in to Malfoy's back, but when the other turned a corner and disappeared he faced his friends and shrugged. "I guess he's finally gotten to the point where he's above us completely," he said with a shrug. In truth, he felt almost disappointed. Malfoy definitely made him angry, there was no way he could try to deny that, but after spending so much time with the other, he had gotten use to his presence. Mentally Harry shook his head. Get use to his presence and that means I want him sneering at me again? Harry sighed and shook his head roughly to clear his thoughts before turning his attention once again back to Ron and Hermione. "Let's go visit Hagrid," he suggested, the tone of his voice not leaving room for any debate if there was going to be one.  
  
After a short hesitation they nodded, smiles appearing back on their faces. "Sounds good," Ron said enthusiastically. At the same time Hermione mused, "I wonder what he was up to this vacation."  
  
"As long as he doesn't have a three headed dragon waiting for us all for our next lesson," Ron stated warily as they headed out of the castle and across the grounds.  
  
Hagrid was known for his interest in magical creatures, the more dangerous the better. Being half-giant, he didn't seem to be afraid of anything and, instead, had the tendency to believe creatures were far less dangerous than they really were. The three knew that Hagrid wanted to keep and raise a dragon than any other creature in the world, and had indeed gotten his hands on one and dubbed it Norbert. And there had been Fluffy as well of course. The three headed man-eating dog that the school had used to protect the sorcerer's stone. At the suggested image of a Fluffy and Norbert mix, the group shuddered.  
  
Harry couldn't stop his mind from straying to Malfoy as they walked across the grass toward the forest and Hagrid's house. Why had he not sneered, or made fun of them? Why had he been looking at Harry during breakfast? Why was Harry even wasting the time thinking about the other boy? Shaking his head as though the action could clear his mind, he realized that he was being spoken to and looked up. "What?" His voice was testier than he had meant it to be, and Hermione looked taken aback while Ron eyed him questioningly.  
  
"I was wondering what you did over vacation. I'm really sorry that I wasn't able to stay, but they were one refundable tickets and my parents and I always have Christmas together. I know that they would have been really disappointed if I didn't go," Hermione said with a downcast and apologetic sigh, she was looking at him with worry in her eyes as well. Apparently it was noticeable that something was wrong with him, she just looked confused as to what it was.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Harry assured, trying to make up for his tone earlier as his mind raced as he tried to find something to tell them about vacation other than the truth. Not that they wouldn't be hearing it soon enough, the story would spread like wildfire. No doubt half the school would already know, if not more, by the time breakfast ended. It would probably be best for him to tell them instead of having to deal with the accusing questions of why he didn't mention it to them. "It was pretty boring. I got detention-"  
  
Ron's eyes bulged and Hermione managed to look completely shocked and rather disappointed at the same time. "What?!"  
  
Suddenly Hagrid's seemed a lot farther than it was a moment before. "The day you left I was walking down to lunch and ended up getting in this row with Malfoy."  
  
"By a row, you mean you started insulting each other like you normally do, right?" Hermione asked expectantly. Obviously the other option had come to her mind and the likely hood of it, and she was not pleased what so ever.  
  
Harry shook his head and her features settled into even harder disappointment, Ron was trying to hide the beginnings of a smile, apparently not wanting Hermione to see his approval. "No. Hagrid and McGonagall came along and Hagrid picked us up off the ground and had to tear us apart and hold us away from each other. Neither of them looked happy with us."  
  
An exasperated sigh left Hermione's lips. "Well of course they weren't happy with you! Fighting without your wands!" Ron and Harry looked confused and she rolled her eyes. "Don't you listen to anything? Fighting with wands may be dangerous, sure, highly dangerous. But brawling with somebody and completely disregarding magic shows...well, it shows actual hatred. It's showing you would rather find satisfaction by feeling the pain your causing to somebody else than simply witness it." She glared at them, Ron still looked like he didn't fully understand; Harry had understood, but wasn't sure he quite appreciated the information. Could Hermione just for once not act like they were complete idiots when they didn't know something that she did? The girl continued. "So, what happened?" She asked expectantly after a moment's pause.  
  
A moment of silence passed before Harry responded. "Well, they took us to Dumbledore and he told us that he had enough of our fighting and used Vinculum on us." The raven-haired teen explained, his mind still mulling over Hermione's explanation of fighting. It made sense in a way, it would make sense why the professors had taken the fight so seriously, but he still wondered if there was something else happening. Something more than just trying to end the constant squabbling between two students.  
  
Hermione gasped, eyes wide; Ron looked confused again. "Are you serious? How far? And where..." She looked around. "Where is he then?"  
  
Harry sighed, feeling oddly disappointed yet again at the reminder. "He made it six feet. Dumbledore had to leave yesterday for an emergency Ministry meeting and he reversed it before he left. He said that we had made great improvements," he explained carefully.  
  
"What are you talking about? What's this...Vinculum spell you're talking about?" Ron wondered, eyes going between Harry and Hermione.  
  
"It's an old spell they stopped using ages ago," Hermione said, taking it as her place to explain such things. "It's used to bond people together so that they can't go further than a certain distance than each other. In this case, Harry's and Malfoy's was six feet." She turned to Harry, looking more than a little apologetic.  
  
Ron's eyes had become wide. "You had to stay six feet away from Malfoy for the entire vacation?!" He exclaimed. "Merlin, mate, I'm sorry. What did you do the entire time?" He paused. "Whose house did you sleep in? Did he make you sleep in those dripping dungeons he calls a home?" He asked in quick succession, shaking his head the whole time. "I'm so sorry I forgot about asking you to come home with me. Mum had just broken her leg and we were all panicking about who was going to take care of her and everything, and it was just the day before."  
  
He would have gone on, but Harry waved his hand dismissingly, not wanting to hear any more excuses about why he had been abandoned temporarily for the holidays. It had been happening over summer, so what was the difference with Christmas vacation? "Don't worry about it Ron. It wasn't as terrible as you would think." He stopped as they had arrived at Hagrid's, the other two giving him strange looks as though he had grown another head. "What?" Harry asked innocently, turning back around to face Hagrid's door. Together they moved to the door and knocked loudly. They waited a few moments, but silence greeted them. A rough ten minutes passed by as the three knocked and then turned and waited on the steps, thinking he might have been in the forest. Over summer it seemed, Dumbledore had spoken to the centaurs about Hagrid's entering the forest and they had come to an agreement of some sort, because Hagrid had no problems with them.  
  
"Well, where do you think he is?" Ron wondered, looking around the cabin as though expecting to see Hagrid come around the corner at any moment.  
  
Hermione sighed and shrugged. "Maybe he's on another assignment for the Order," she suggested, looking from one boy to the other, neither looked too happy with the idea, and she obviously wasn't as well. "We could always try to ask McGonagall or Dumbledore, the least they can ell us is that they can't tell us, right?" She looked at the both of them again, Harry saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, but he was too busy staring out into nothing, thinking bout Malfoy, to pay much attention to her. Apparently Ron had his interest in something else at the moment as well, because she gave a loud sigh. "Well fine then, if you really don't care at all then we won't do anything. Let's go back then, I'd at least like to find out if we an get any information." She stood and started stalking off toward the castle, Harry and Ron were quick to follow.  
  
It ended up that Hermione was right. McGonagall simply told them that it was not their business to be wondering about Hagrid all the time and that they had more important things to do with their time, such as studying their classes, a statement that was completely true, considering that classes had become even increasingly harder since fifth year. However, the answer had told the three enough and they left McGonagall's office silently, just to start talking in the hall about the possibilities of what their friend was doing.  
  
"Maybe he took Gwarp to try to talk to the giants into peace?" Harry wondered dully, knowing that the other two were getting suspicious with his silence. He was normally right in there with the conversation, smiling and talking, acting alive.  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think so. You remember what Hagrid told us last year of what happened to those giants who didn't want to join Voldermort, how they had to hide out in those caves and were tortured or killed when they were found. I don't think he would risk anything like that happening to Gwarp."  
  
They continued to discuss different possibilities until they came to the Gryffindor common, loud with people, and made their ways up to their own rooms, meeting back down a few minutes later, books in hand. Harry had completely forgotten that he had homework to do over break and he was suddenly almost sick at looking at the piles of work he had to do.  
  
Days passed in a blur of heavy loads of homework and late Quiddich practices. It no longer mattered if it was before, during, or after season, they practiced anyway. Ron had improved dramatically as keeper and was definitely holding his own in the games, Ginny had turned out to be an amazing chaser, despite the warnings that Ron gave her about the sport being too dangerous for her. Malfoy kept strangely quiet except for unconvincing retorts thrown here and there. Harry wondered if he was sick, while Hermione and Ron simply enjoyed not having to deal with him and still dragged about the boy in private, not seeming to notice that Harry did not join in such discussions. He instead sat in silent irritation, wondering why they had to rag on the boy when no harm was being done.  
  
It was the Thursday after vacation and Harry was still overloaded with work from the beginning of the week. Staying up late did not do everything, he simply didn't have enough hours in each day to do everything that he needed to do. The common room had emptied out around midnight and he successfully managed to not tell Hermione and Ron about three-fourths of his homework that he had left to do, and convinced them not to wait up for him as he made the last adjustments to his potions essay – somehow he had gotten an Outstanding on his Potions O.W.L. the year before and was now in Snape's N.E.W.T. class, his dreams of being an Auror not quenched. They had eventually headed off to bed, leaving Harry trying to at least get finished what was due the next day, and that would proved hard within itself.  
  
Realistically he had barely finished half of his homework, all of it hastily done and he'd be surprised to be getting 'A's on any of them. In a way he was thankful for the amount of homework every night, it kept him up late and meant that when he did go to sleep he was too exhausted to dream; most of the time at least. He fell asleep over his papers and books somewhere around three in the morning. It was one of those exception nights.  
  
He jerked himself awake a few hours later, before anyone else was awake. His chair fell backward and landed with a thud, waking him up as he rolled out of it. Shaking his head and pressing the heals of his hands to his eyes, Harry laid on the floor for a few minutes, taking deep breaths before he pushed himself up and looked around. Nobody had come down, he hadn't woken anyone up. Breathing a sigh of relief he bent down and picked up his chair. His books were still laid out, ink had crusted in his quill and he would need to wash it out before he could start writing with it again.  
  
Checking the time, he found it was already a quarter before five, and it would be at least another hour before people started getting up. There was no real reason to go up to bed, but he went up anyway, though it was just to grab new clothes before he headed off to take a bath. Ron kept him up to date on what the prefect's bath password so that he could go in particularly late at night or early in the morning and enjoy the beautiful baths without getting caught by any of the other prefects.  
  
Harry spent half and hour soaking in the bath, not even taking the energy to do a few laps in the giant, pool-like tub. He washed his hair and soaped up, enjoying the feeling of being clean. As the water and bubbles began to drain, he pulled himself out and wrapped a fluffy towel around his hips while he took another to use on his mop of hair and dry his upper-body. Towel around his head, he didn't hear the portrait open and didn't realize anyone else was in the room until he turned around. His arms fell from his head, towel hanging limply from a hand as he stared across at none other than Slytherin prefect, Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy didn't say anything as he finally stepped away from the portrait and went around to grab towels for himself before starting the flow of the bath for himself. Harry couldn't stand the silence. He had just started getting use to not having the other padding around beside to him when he suddenly ran into the subject that had been haunting him for the past week. Stuck between drying, wanting to flee, and wanting to stay, he said the only thing that came to mind, a question that was the reason for the haunting. "Why are you ignoring me?" He asked quickly, suddenly feeling like git for saying it afterwards; but, not being able to take it back, he stood straight and stared at the other, waiting for an answer.  
  
Seconds ticked by and turned into minutes, and Harry was just about to leave, rather irritated with the other, when Malfoy chose to speak, halting Harry with his hand half-way to his pants. "It seemed like you had enough to deal with, without me making fun of you all the time," he answered truthfully, not taking his eyes off the flow from the spouts.  
  
Harry thought he must have heard wrong, but he had been listening too hard for that to be an excuse. "What do you mean?" He wondered back, eyes hooked on the other teen, unable to pull his gaze away.  
  
The Slytherin shrugged. "You were screaming loud enough to wake the whole of the Forbidden Forest. You couldn't have actually thought that I was able to sleep through that, could you?" Malfoy asked back, finally pulling his silvery eyes away from the bath and turning them on Harry.  
  
If he hadn't been facing Malfoy, Harry might have blushed. "You never said anything about it," he protested. "I was sure that if you did wake up that you would be making comments about it. But, you haven't." It was proving much harder to have the conversation now that he was actually facing the other boy, but it seemed to be going well enough so far.  
  
"I never knew you actually had nightmares Potter," Malfoy said as though it was completely obvious and most pertinent to the conversation at hand. He explained himself a moment later. "There's nothing funny about how you wake up at night."  
  
tbc...


	6. Breakthroughs

Title: Vinculum

Date: July 18, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warnings: SPOILERS (for #5 – Order of the Phoenix)

-  
  
Breakthroughs  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, knowing that his confusion was showing on his face and wishing it wouldn't. But he still didn't understand. Malfoy made fun of Hagrid when he was going to get fired, he made fun of Neville and Harry for doing poorly in potions, he definitely did not like the way that Dumbledore ran Hogwarts, and he spoke down viciously to people who were not of pure blood. So why would Harry having nightmares effect whether Malfoy made fun of him having nightmares?  
  
Malfoy sighed and shook his head, at least that was the Malfoy that Harry knew. "If somebody actually died, I wouldn't make fun of them Potter," he said after a minute. "Pureblood, Mudblood, Muggle, it wouldn't matter, I wouldn't make fun of death." He looked up again and shrugged. "Like you understand any of this," he said with an expulsion of breath that made a soft 'puh' noise.  
  
Harry didn't know what to do. He was interested in hearing what the other had to say, but he felt like an idiot just standing there, towel around his waist; not that sitting down would be all that much better; and it would look even more bizarre if he slid into the bath again. He was still confused, but he felt that he understood some of what Malfoy was trying to tell him, he just didn't know how to explain it either. "No, go on," he urged.  
  
"I'm not like my father," Malfoy said. "I don't sneer at real pain." He stopped and listened, as though having heard something. Harry paused, hearing it as well. "You should go, others will be coming in to take baths as well," the blond warned, tugging his shirt over his head before bending forward and pulling his shoes off his feet.  
  
For a moment Harry paused and just looked at Malfoy. The other glanced up and Harry shook his head and jumped into action, grabbing his clothes and quickly sliding into them. Quickly he tossed his towels into a bin marked for them and made his way across toward the portrait. He paused when he got there, one hand on it, and turned around and caught Malfoy's eye. "You better start sneering at me before the whole school thinks you've lost your marbles," he said as he stepped through the door and into the hall. He couldn't explain why he had just given Malfoy permission to start mocking him again, but it had something to do with the fact that it was plain disturbing to have the other doing anything else.  
  
Indeed Malfoy had been right. The school had the presence of waking up. Harry rushed to the Gryffindor common an when he opened up the portrait he was lucky to see nobody yet awake enough to be out. Breakfast didn't start for another half an hour, but he had still spent more time in the baths than he had planned due to is run-in with Malfoy. He made his way to the room at the top of the tower to wake up Ron and get his books. The thought of not waking up Ron and simply going to breakfast on his own crossed his mind, but he didn't want Ron and Hermione to think he was angry with them, or get mad at him in return. It would be safer just to wait a little while until they got up.  
  
Forty-five minutes later Harry, Ron, and Hermione were making their way toward breakfast. Both of them had noticed the fact that he looked like he had gotten no sleep and commented on it. He told them that there had been an essay he had forgotten about and just remembered before going up to bed. Hermione gave him a frowned scowl of disapproval and Ron had told her to lay off a little. "After all, he did spend all of vacation six feet away from Malfoy, you can't expect his mind to have healed already," he said.  
  
Oh yes, his vacation with Malfoy. By the end of Monday everybody had known the story. Harry had gotten countless sympathetic apologies, for what he didn't know; probably just the fact that he had 'endured' it all on his lonesome. Though many people sympathized, there were also the Slytherins, who seemed to think the entire thing was Harry's fault. It had not helped that Malfoy had stopped making fun of him as well, they claimed that he had done something to their precious prefect, a jinx or hex of some sort.  
  
However, all their doubts of Malfoy were swept away that morning at breakfast when, on his way into the hall, Harry ran into Malfoy who had just been standing there talking to his friends. The blond turned around, eyes narrowed, a sneer on his lips. "Watch were you're going Potter," he scoffed. "I would have thought that glass that you wear on your face was thick enough to magnify atoms." The teens behind him laughed and whooped, celebrating the return of their leader.  
  
"Lay off Malfoy," Ron snapped before turning Harry toward the Gryffindor table. Harry's eyes met Malfoy's for a moment before turning away completely. Though his features had been criticizing, his eyes had held a kind of neutrality, a truce. "I can't believe that git. Makes us believe we're safe and then as soon as we get use to it he suddenly springs up and attacks us." He continued muttering until they got to their table and sat down.  
  
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and once again met Malfoy's gaze, his lips twitched up into a smile and Malfoy gave a shrug, as though to say how good he was. They turned away from each other at the same time, called away by their friends' voices.  
  
The day passed in complete normalcy. Harry shared Potions, and Dark Arts with the other teen. In each class the blond would smirk and mutter comments about him to his minions, making them laugh and taunt Harry from across the room even. When he had been leaving the baths that morning he had been worried about having to face the verbal abuse, but it was shocking to him how little it effected him. He made his retorts and snaps as well, playing along, but that was all it was, a game. It wasn't a harsh fight any longer, it only appeared to be so to the onlookers. Only Harry and Malfoy knew better. And yet, somehow Malfoy still managed to stay away from the subject of nightmares, and Harry steered clear of the topic of Lucious, though not knowing exactly why.  
  
Harry had another late night of studying. Once again he told his friends that he needed to make a touch up ad go ahead up to bed without him. They looked as though they were going to go, but they didn't. After a moment Harry looked up to notice two pair of intense gazes focused on him from his left side. He turned his head to face them with an innocent look on his face. "What?" He asked, trying to play it cool, calm, casual; the three C's that had suddenly become a very important part in his life.  
  
"You've been telling us that every night Harry. How much homework do you have?" Ron asked, seeming amazed. "I mean, it is Saturday tomorrow. What happened to finishing it over the weekend?" He prodded.  
  
From Ron's left Hermione's eyes were intent on Harry, as though trying to pull the answers out of him with her eyes, it was un-nerving. "What's wrong with me wanting to get my homework done?" Harry asked defensively. "Is there a problem with wanting to do well in my classes? Hermione is doing work al the time and you never ask her about it. Why does it have to be different for me?"  
  
Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, mate. Hermione's been studying since the day she was born. It would be weird to see her not studying. You and I on the other hand, we always wait until last minute. I was just wondering why there was the sudden change. It doesn't seem like the normal you."  
  
"Why do my homework habits need to be normal?" Harry asked, voice rising. "For Heaven's sake, nothing else about me is normal! So why should my homework habits? Hu?" He pressed, voice getting even louder. No doubt people in the lower bedrooms could at least hear somebody's voice, if not the words.  
  
"Don't get mad at us Harry, we're just-" Hermione started.  
  
Harry interrupted her loudly. "Trying to be helpful. Trying to be good friends. Trying to care," he filled in a rush. "Well, a sodding lot of good you're doing me." With a sweep of his arm half of his books fell off the table and into his bag, he piled as many others as he could into his arms and stormed off, through the portrait of the Fat Lady and into the dark halls. He stormed around for about five minutes until his arms started to ache with the weight of all of the books he was carrying. Stopping to gain his bearings he realized he was out in the middle of the castle, hours past even the seventh year's curfew, lugging around a ton of books, without his invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, or a lamp. Well, at least he could fix the last of that list right away, but he didn't. There was enough risk of getting caught without waving a glowing wand everywhere.  
  
After a few minutes of just standing in place he decided to make his way to the prefects' bath once again that day. They were private, no cracks in portraits like there were in doors to see light through, and nobody would be in there this late. He started walking in the direction, but it seemed that whenever he came to a staircase it would move to exactly the opposite direction he wanted it to go in. Of course, he could still make it there despite the moving stairs, but as he wandered the halls every turn he made seemed to take him somewhere other than it was suppose to lead. Eventually he decided that if he couldn't make it to the baths he might as well just stop anywhere and try to get some more work done. He stepped through. Facing the door as he closed it, Harry felt chilled winter air breeze past him and he slowly pivoted around to find himself outside. Quickly he turned, but the door was gone, it was just a wall of the castle. Backing up a few meters he recognized himself to be on the opposite side than that which face the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's house.  
  
Looking around wildly, Harry saw no door in sight. He would have to make he way around the castle toward the front in order to get in. With hope he would run into another door before there and slip inside. His books were starting to become very heavy in his arms and he wanted to just be back in the Gryffindor common, even if Hermione and Ron were still awake and waiting for him.  
  
Setting off at a quick walk he started along the wall. The night around him seemed to be darker than normal, and a fog had moved in at some time during the night. Pausing for only a moment tapped his bag and books and took off again, his heavier possessions floating quickly behind him as he trotted along, hand gripping his wand tightly. He didn't understand why he felt so nervous, but he did know that it had something to do with the fog that had not been there twenty minutes prior. He remembered distinctly looking out a window in the common room and seeing clear skies all around the school, over the fields, forest, and lake. Not a single shimmering cloud in sight.  
  
The fog seemed to be thickening by the minute, making Harry rush faster, a feeling of foreboding welling inside of him. He stopped dead when he heard heavy thuds approaching. Very heaving thuds. Many of them, coming directly towards him. Somehow the movement sounded familiar, but he couldn't think of what they reminded him of until he saw a huge looming shadow form in the fog. The teen started walking backwards, stumbling more like it actually, eyes hooked on the figure that was taking shape. He would have turned an run had he thought he had a chance at it. He had just remembered about his wand when the creature spoke.  
  
"Harry Potter. Hagrid needs your help," Aragog said. He was now close enough for Harry to make out completely. Eight giant legs holding his large spider's body up. Numerous eyes stared down at him unblinking, black and unreflecting in the fog. Harry was no less afraid of him now than he had been before after hearing his fate from the thing. The creature seemed to be impatient and moved quickly forward again until he was only a meter or so away, making Harry turn his head up at an even more uncomfortable angle. "Harry Potter. Hagrid needs your help," he repeated more urgently.  
  
The message finally seemed to get through to Harry because he blinked and stared, his features changing from that of startled alarm to confused worry. "What? Hagrid's in trouble?" He asked, regaining his composure. Now that he new it wasn't Voldermort standing in front of him he was feeling almost calm. "Where is he?"  
  
Aragog tapped his feet in the ground, something that more likely resembled stomping and caused the ground to shudder slightly under Harry's feet. "The Forest. He was returning, but something is wrong. He fell and did not get up, he stinks of blood." He snapped his jaw feverishly. "Come. You must come quickly." He moved around behind Harry and started walking forward, as though to rush the boy along the grounds. "I would have brought him myself, but I fear to move him. Hagrid has always treated me well, and I do not wish to cause him any further harm."  
  
Harry nodded and rushed forward, Aragog passed over him and led the way at a pace that made the teen start running quickly. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to reach the forest, and Harry bounded into it after Aragog unthinkingly. Considering the way that Hagrid had come back from his last mission for the Order, the possibility of him being seriously injured was very real. Following the loud stomps of the spider ahead of him, Harry ran further, not even paying attention to where he was going. He trusted that Aragog would lead him and Hagrid back to the edge once they found the man and Harry figured out a way to transport him.  
  
As they ran deeper another kind of chill started creeping through Harry. They were too deep. Hagrid wouldn't have risked going through the whole forest if he was so injured, he wouldn't risk drawing the less friendly of creatures to him if he were bleeding. Though he may be a sucker for a dangerous animal, Hagrid was not completely stupid when it came to them. Harry started looking around, his stomach twisting as he realized that he didn't recognize an inch of what was around him. He felt like he was in one of his nightmares and he went so far as to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn't. The pinch hurt.  
  
He looked around again as he ran, and then up at where Aragog was somewhere in front of him. Why hadn't the spider asked him to get Dumbledore? Or Madam Pomfrey? It must have known them from the time Hagrid had him in the school. But he had asked for him, Harry Potter. He had insistently said Harry's full name twice to get him to come. Something didn't feel right and he slowed down, allowing the crashing of Aragog pound on ahead. Soon the sound of the spider was all together gone, leaving Harry alone, in the too- dark night, with fog invading even the space between the trees, and silence surrounding him. None of it bode well for him.  
  
Moving around in circles, trying to look everywhere at once, Harry considered cutting himself. With hope the smell of his blood would attract the thestrals and he would then be able to catch a quick, safe, reliable ride back to the castle. However, he didn't know if the horses wandered so deep into the forest. In fact, he didn't know any of the animals that might live so deep and that might be attracted to the scent as well. Still gripping his wand he bent down and started looking closely at the ground, his eyes scanning intensely until he figured out the direction he had entered from.  
  
He would head back and get Dumbledore, tell him what Aragog had told him and then would let the man decide the possibility. For once he did not feel like going any further on to be hero, especially considering the fact that he did not believe he would be playing hero. He stood to head back, hoping that the presumed Aragog had taken him in a straight line, and stopped dead. A man in a long, black cloak; with slicked back, long blond hair stood in front of him.  
  
Lucious Malfoy, out from Azkaban, and his lips were curved upward in a disturbing smirk.  
  
"Hello Harry."  
  
tbc...


	7. Meeting

Title: Vinculum  
  
Date: July 18, 2004  
  
By: NinjaBubble (L. King)  
  
Warnings: SPOILERS (for #5 – Order of the Phoenix)  
  
Note: I was trying to wait to hear from a friend to know if this was still in character, but it's been way too long, so I'm posting it anyway.  
  
-  
  
Meeting  
  
Harry stared at the man in shock for a moment before raising his wand. Lucius was already there though, not suffering from shock himself. "Expeliarmus!" He declared loudly. Harry was knocked to his back and his wand flew from his hand. The teen stared up at Lucius, definitely not feeling good about the situation as a whole. His fingers scrambled as far as they could, searching for his wand and the Death Eater just laughed. "I pride myself on my mind Potter. This whole thing was my idea in fact." He wove his wand hand up in the air as he spoke, and eight legs grew out of his back. They remained for a few seconds, long enough for realization to dawn on Harry's face, before waving them away.  
  
"That's not possible, there's no way you could know about Aragog!" Harry protested, hoping to distract the man as his fingers searched frantically for his wand.  
  
Lucius chuckled. "The Dark Lord has his ways of getting information, you should know that by now, don't you think?" He wondered, raising an eyebrow at the teen on the ground. It showed on his face obviously how amused he was, how much he was enjoying what was happening.  
  
Of course. Tom Riddle, Voldermort, had been the one to catch Hagrid with Aragog. He would have known that Hagrid could never let harm come to any of the creatures he took care of, that he would simply let Aragog go free instead of keep him and have to give him up to the professors to deal with. But, how he would have known that Harry knew or even knew about Aragog, he didn't know. Perhaps he had simply assumed, or guessed. Painfully, Harry remembered how Voldermort had played on how much he cared for Sirius. Basically he had done the same thing. Harry could have hit himself for being so naïve, if he hadn't been so worried about finding his wand.  
  
There was a rustling from behind the teen as another Death Eater came out. Harry didn't even bother trying to look, he was still concentrating on Lucius and finding his wand. The new intruder sniffed arrogantly. "He doesn't look that impressive," she said, and Harry recognized the voice as Sirius's murderer, Bellatrix. Anger boiled in the teen and he felt his body temperature rise slightly, as though he were going to perform a spell.  
  
The feeling was slashed when ropes lashed out from seemingly nowhere and wrapped around him. Lucius cross over and picked up Harry's wand from the ground. He inspected it for a moment before sliding it away into his own robes and turning back to Harry. "The Dark Lord is quite eager to be meeting you Harry, he believes my suggestion will fill the expectations that he's had for quite awhile. And to think," he mused, walking forward, "it was all inspired by that little detention of yours over the holidays."  
  
Cold dread filled Harry as he was lifted to his feet by a will other than is own, and Lucius slapped his hand on his shoulder, still smirking sickly. "Shall we go then?" He wondered, eyes flickering over Harry for a moment to glance at the woman standing there. He did not seemed pleased that she was there. Apparently she had been spared harsh punishment from Voldermort. Harry turned, under Lucius' direction, and blinked in surprise. She had not gone unpunished. Though there were no outward sign of injury or torture, she was pale, waxen and thin; her cheeks were sunken in the area around her eyes looked as though they were bruised, hollow sockets.  
  
Tearing his eyes away from Bellatrix, Harry turned his attention to Lucius. How were they expecting to leave the grounds without being seen? Of course...they had gotten on without being detected, so they had a plan of some sorts obviously. Not waiting for a sign that they woman had heard him, Lucius wove his wand and a dark objected landed on the ground with a heavy thud. Harry couldn't tell what it was, but it didn't matter, it only took a few seconds for him to smell the blood. It was a stronger stench than he could imagine and in moments he moved his hands up to cover his nose and mouth with his robes, trying to block out the smell. He was confused, not knowing what they were trying to do until he saw white eyes in the darkness. They were doing exactly what he had considered doing, luring thestrals out to grab a free and fast ride.  
  
It didn't take long for them to come, the scent of blood apparently being strong enough to draw out at least a dozen thestrals from the surrounding forest. Lucius walked toward one of the creatures, Harry floated after him, his feet only an inch or so above the ground. He turned to Bellatrix, who had already mounted her own thestral, Harry turned his head as well, wanting to know what was happening. She took out he wand and gave a flick of her wrist. "Vinculum," she stated demandingly.  
  
Harry felt the same chill go through his body as had happened when Dumbledore had use the spell on him and Malfoy. If it was possible the stone in his stomach became even heavier as he glanced at Lucius again, the man was smirking down at him. "You have Dumbledore's detention to thank for this," he said coolly. The whole thing seemed to put him in a wonderful mood. Harry was lifted and put over the back of the thestral like a sack of grain before Lucius mounted behind him.  
  
They took off with a fast, jerking motion that nearly made him fall off the animal. The ride was uncomfortable when you were sitting on the thestral, Harry knew that; but laying over it on your stomach was close to agony. The jerks of the animal and movements of the wings caused him to lift up slightly and then fall back. Harry's mind worked furiously, trying to come up with a plan to get out of the mess he had put himself in. There was nobody he could rely on finding and helping him this time. Dumbledore was gone from school. Ron and Hermione were angry with him and likely went straight up to bed, with no second thoughts, as soon as he had left. There had been little threat that year and the teachers were not on alert. He hadn't been wandering the halls for some time so Flich and Ms. Norris would not think it strange that no odd creeping noises were being made. Hagrid was away, there would be nobody to possibly have seen or heard Aragog or the thestrals. He was alone, surely allowed to go no further than a meter from Lucius, his wand was in the man's robes, they were on thestrals far above the ground.  
  
However, he would not give up. He refused to have such a meeting with Voldermort to be as close to completely powerless as he could come. From how he lay, Harry could see straight down to the scenery they were flying over. They had left Hogwarts's grounds and were flying over trees. Closing his eyes tightly Harry thought over it one last time. Really, Lucius couldn't let himself or Harry die; and most definitely not Bellatrix, she would fear her punishment too much. Keeping his eyes closed, not wanting to think about how high up they were; he took another moment to picture Hogwarts in his mind, Ron, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall. Maybe they would find him. He could only hope. With that he quickly rolled over to his side and brought his knees up sharply as the thestral jerked. Lucius gave a shout of confusion and a moment later they had both slid from the animal and were hurtling toward the ground.  
  
They separated from each other in the air, Harry having initially fallen off the thestral first after pushing from Lucius, fell slightly faster. A tingle of shook ran through his body and with every inch that grew between them the feeling intensified. He refused to close his eyes, wanting to know how far the ground was, but he had to force himself to clench his jaw shut to keep from letting out any sound of pain.  
  
Luckily Harry had thought right. He and Lucius were soon slowed in their progressed downward, brought closer together during their fall, and eventually set on the pavement bellow with a gentle thud. The ropes had fallen off during the fall and without a second's hesitation Harry smashed his fist into Lucius's face. The Death Eater gave a startled roar and threw out his own punch. Thanking his Seeker reflexes, Harry dodged the blow and tackled the man to the ground fiercely. He only had a few moments before Bellatrix would realize what was going one bellow her and put a quick stop to it. Pounding another fist against Lucius's jaw, Harry slid his hands under the man's robes, frantically searching.  
  
Lucius's hand reached up, the heal of his hand against Harry's chin. He pushed up, knocking Harry's head back and tossing the teen off of him, but Harry had already found what he wanted. The two scrambled to their feet, Lucius's furious eyes glaring death at Harry as he reached for his own wand. Not allowing the man any time, Harry rose his own wand. "Petrificus Totalus!" Lucius's arms suddenly snapped to his sides, his legs came together and he teetered for a moment before starting to fall back. Again Harry didn't loose any time, with another wave of his wand Lucius was floating, much as Harry had been not long before. Not waiting for Bellatrix, he ran from the scene, Lucius close behind him. That fact that he was under the Vinculum spell had yet to leave his mind.  
  
A shot what almost looked to be blue lightening shot no more than thirty centimeters from Harry and he dodged to the other side. If he could just make it around the corner of the street he would be able to get out of the way of Bellatrix's fired hexes. He reached the corner just as silvery sparks splashed behind him, the jinx having hit Lucius instead of him, before a loud 'Pop' sounded from where the woman was. She appeared in front of him around the corner, wand raised and pointed straight at his head, while Lucious grabbed Harry by the neck from behind and shoved him into the wall of a building, wrenching his wand from his hand and handing it over to Bellatrix who slid it away and stepped back another foot, wand still raised. So that would be the plan, to keep his wand out of the Vinculum distance.  
  
"Poor show Potter," Lucius hissed in Harry's ear, crushing him against the wall roughly. "It would have been better for you to not fight back." He stepped away and Harry heard the familiar shuffle of fabric as the man rose his own wand and pressed the tip against Harry's back. It dug into his spine uncomfortably. "You've made us loose time and a thestral Potter. Luckily," he continued, "we don't need those blundering creatures now that we're off of Hogwarts's grounds."  
  
Harry mentally sighed heavily. That was right. They could Apparate or use a Portkey. Lucius kept him shoved against thew all, unable to se what was going on behind his back, but Bellatrix was shuffling around and eventually muttered a spell. Finally Harry was spun around, ropes once again lashing out to render him immobile. The woman Death Eater was holding a dirty newspaper that she must have found on the ground. Lucius put his hand on it and they pressed it to Harry's chest. The teen blinked, and then felt the familiar sensation of a hook suddenly pulling him forward through darkness. He felt sick, not knowing what to expect, not knowing what Voldermort would be trying to do this time. Would the man finally just kill him? Or was he not over his ego and would he give Harry another fighting chance?  
  
One moment they were flying and the next they were standing in a dark room. In a flash of grey flames the newspaper disappeared from Bellatrix's hand and Harry was able to settle his attention on the room that they were in. It was lit by flaming torches that floated by the walls, their flames an eerie crimson color, giving off a red glow. The room was sparse but not large. The walls were book shelves that went all the way to the ceiling and did not have an inch of scrap space to fit another volume in, half a dozen fabric chairs were fit into the room, the largest of which was turned with its back to Harry, facing what appeared to be a table.  
  
Harry's heartbeat echoed in his ears, his scar burned fiercely and he pressed the heal of his hand to it in effort to dull the pain at least slightly. A low chuckle eminated from the chair and a tall figure of a man stood from it, moving around slowly before facing Harry and Lucius. Voldermort looked no different than he had when Harry had last seen him fighting Dumbledore. Except now there was no Dumbledore, he wasn't even at the school to possibly get the mess from Ron and Hermione that Harry had walked out and had yet to return. Harry had left no clues behind for anyone to follow. He was stuck there, alone, with no back up, with his wand shoved in Lucius's robes, unable to move, facing bother Lucius and Voldermort.  
  
Apparently, having summed up the same knowledge, Voldermort let out another chuckle. The action twisted his face even more grotesquely. "Harry Potter, we meet again I see. I feel good about this meeting," he said, walking forward slowly. "Which means you should be worried."  
  
tbc... 


	8. Keen Mind, Observant Eyes

Title: Vinculum

Date: July 18, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warnings: SPOILERS (for #5 – Order of the Phoenix)

Keen Mind, Observant Eyes

Draco was already seated at the Slytherin table eating breakfast when he spotted two familiar Gryffindors walk in. He was going to dismiss them when it suddenl hit him that there were only two; that Harry was not with his friends that morning. The blond boy continued to watch curiously. Ron and Hermione had been talking to each other, heads close together. When they walked into the hall they both looked up, gazes going to the Gryffindor table, looking for something. Draco followed their gaze, his own silver eyes giving the tables a quick, but thorough, search. No Harry. He looked back at the other two who had once again started talking. Hermione was making gestures with her arms, looking either angry or upset, it looked to be the same to Draco. Ron, on the other hand, looked close to panic. Draco would have simply dismissed it all as a fight that the group was having, Harry avoiding the other two, if it had not been for the act that the said 'other two' looked to both be confused. I looked as though they didn't know where Harry was and they didn't have a reason for not knowing.

"Right?" A familiar voice asked, simultaneously with a soft nudge.

Blinking, Draco turned his head to the Blaise, the one who had spoken to him. "What?" He asked irritably. For some reason he was thinking about Harry's nightmares and his introverted, quiet attitude; almost depressed.

"I was just wondering if Weasely and Granger even know what to do with themselves without Potter around. I mean, look at them, they can't even decided to go over to their table or not," the other Slytherin boy pointed out with a laugh.

"Yeah, sure." Draco agreed absently. His mind was far from any subject related to taunting. He hadn't been able to keep himself from wondering if Potter's nightmares could make him suicidal. It wasn't as though he cared about the boy, he had stopped teasing him about his nightmares for the mere fact that he knew the truth about how horrifying they were. But he couldn't say that the thought of The Boy Who Lived jumping from a tower window and smashing against the ground bellow wasn't disturbing and simply wrong. "I have to go," he said, getting up quickly and walking out of the hall, brushing past Weasely and Granger without a sound. Moving too quickly for any of his lackies to follow, he made his way to the prefects's bath. Maybe Potter had decided to take a bath while everyone was at breakfast. It would be a reckless and stupid thing to do, as the likelihood of getting caught would be tremendous, but it would be far from the first stupid thing that he did.

Opening the painting Draco slid into the large room and looked around. The bath was empty, as was the room. Perfectly clean, no sign or noise of any temporary visitor. The teen took a moment to think. Potter wouldn't be in the Gryffindor tower, Weasely and Granger would have found him. Nor would he be at Hagrid's, considering the man had left after the holidays. As for towers to jump from, or places to hang himself, or rooms to slit his wrists... Draco didn't even want to think about it. The supposed savior, killing himself.

Somehow he found himself back in the main hall, standing at the end of the teacher's table, leaning casually against the wall as his gaze bore into Snape, willing the man to look up. Soon enough he did, and detecting something was amiss, he excused himself from his meal and walked over to the sixth year before sliding out a side door and into another room. "What is it Malfoy?"

Draco didn't quite seem able to find out what to say. Everything that came to mind was either lame or made him sound soft. In the end Snape's prickly glare and small, expectant noise that came from his throat got the blond to speak. "Potter's missing, Sir," he blurted out, managing to keep his voice smooth and cool.

Snape rose an eyebrow in surprise, his greasy bangs falling forward. "Potter is often missing Malfoy. Why would it be that this is any different than any other time? And why, might I ask, are you the one telling me this?" He wondered, his tone slightly agitated. He was not pleased with his favored Slytherin student and it was painfully obvious at the moment.

Another short paused of silence passed between the two before Draco spoke again. "Because Potter was having nightmares," he admitted finally. "When we were stuck together over the holidays. I didn't think that they were important, but they were...disturbing," he said slowly, meaningfully. Snape was listening carefully, it seemed that Draco had caught onto something. "He was staying up during the nights trying not to sleep." He shook his head, knowing he wasn't getting to the point fast enough. "He seemed to have been...depressed lately. I may not be one of Potter's fans, but it's still disconcerting to think he may be suicidal," he wrapped up.

The Potions Master's eyes widened a fraction in surprise before he shook his head. "Potter would not commit suicide Malfoy. I assure you that would not happen." He started to turn to return to the other professors at breakfast when he paused and once again addressed Draco, seeming to have remembered something. "What do you mean, by Potter's dreams being disturbing?" He asked intently.

Draco blinked and shook his head. "They weren't dreams. They were nightmares." Snape rose an eyebrow, silently questioning him on the statement. "He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming at the top of his lungs. At first it seemed like the same dream, because he would always wake up the same; but then it, or they, changed. He would call out people's names and he would cry in his sleep, but would stop when he woke up." His voice was as slick as ever, disapproval clear in his words as well as on his features. Being his father's son, and of the years of hanging around with idiots, observant idiots, he was a master of manipulation.

Snape's features were carefully neutral, but he was obviously thinking over something important. "You said he was staying up, trying not to sleep?"

"Yes. They seemed to get worse, and he would try harder to stay awake."

"Did he stay awake awhile before he went to sleep?" Snape asked, his voice holding a hint of urgency in it.

The teen blinked, not knowing what to say. "I didn't watch him go to bed Sir. But I can say that one he started stay up he wouldn't. It seemed hard enough for him to stay awake at all. He often would fall asleep in the middle of meals, or reading a book," he supplied, not liking the way Snape's features had started to change.

"And why didn't you tell any of us about this Mr. Malfoy?" The Potions Master asked, voice and gaze both cold.

"I didn't think it was that important Sir," Draco answered truthfully. Yes, it had been disturbing, and more than slightly annoying. "In a way I thought that the spell had done it to him for some reason," he supplied. He didn't know what he had thought about the nightmares, but he most definitely had not thought that they were serious or that they would be much more harmful than making the Gryffindor boy stay awake more than he should have been. It had been nice, in a way, not having to fight with the other constantly.

Snape was silent for several moments before he finally spoke. When he did, he spoke quickly, voice a degree softer than it had been before. "Wait right here Malfoy. Understand me?"

Nodding, Draco watched as the professor turned swiftly and left through the same door they had entered through. Thoughts were running through his mind faster than he could process them fully. He had no idea what was going on. What was so important about Potter's nightmares that he should have told one of the professors about them during Christmas break? The last thing he would have wanted to do was go to Dumbledore and tell him about Potter's nightmares. Not only would Potter have known then that he had been feigning sleep and had really heard his screams of pain and loss, but he would have felt like a complete git for bringing the matter up. He may not think his father was a hero any more, but Draco still did believe in Malfoy pride.

A few moments later the door opened and Snape came in, followed by Dumbledore and McGonagall. Draco could only stand and look at them. What in Merlin's name was going on? Really. Snape had said that there was no threat of Potter committing suicide. So what was this whole parade for? Keeping his features calm, Draco waited to be addressed. In the end Dumbledore simply looked at him for a moment before telling them that the meeting would be better held in his office. It was a statement that rose more questions in Draco's mind, such as why was the room that they were in not good enough? But he ignored them for the time being and simply followed behind Snape as they made their way through the castle. Up ahead he could see McGonagall speaking hurriedly to Dumbledore, low enough so that Draco could not even hear the low murmur of their voices.

They came to Dumbledore's office quickly, their pace having been kept quite brisk throughout the walk. Muttering to the gargoyle, it sprang to life and jumped out of the way, allowing them to walk through to the moving staircase and make their way up to the office. As they entered a chair appeared in front of Dumbledore's large desk. The Headmaster made his way around to his own chair and sat while he indicated for Draco to take a seat in the only other chair in the room. The teen did so, watching the older man carefully as he leaned back, wise eyes considering and serious. "Professor Snape tells me that Harry started having nightmares over Christmas vacation," he said.

"No," Draco protested, continuing quickly before he could be interrupted. "I think he was having nightmares before you put that ridiculous spell on us. What I was say was that after Christmas they started getting...well, disturbing. That's what I told Professor Snape."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "Alright. Can you tell me about them?"

Draco repeated to Dumbledore what he had told Snape. The screaming, crying, thrashing; how Potter started staying awake as long as he could, and how the nightmares seemed to only get progressively worse. He might have left some of it out, to help Potter not sound completely insane, had it not seemed to be so terribly important to the professors surrounding him to know ever detail that he could possibly give. After he stopped speaking there were a silence.

"And what makes you say that Harry is missing?" Dumbledore wondered, his hands had come together, fingers interlacing tightly.

"Weasely and Ganger walked into the hall without him. You can tell when they don't know where he is because they look completely lost and near panic," he said. So, he was adding a little bit of exaggerations to the two's reactions; but they couldn't think that he would abandon his ways completely. "Potter wasn't sitting at the Gryffindor table already, one of my friends commented on that."

"And you thought he was possibly attempting to commit suicide?" The white-haired wizard wondered with a raised eyebrow.

Draco couldn't help but shrug. "Potter hasn't been himself lately. He doesn't fight like he use to. It's always hollow and he doesn't get angry. Ask anyone, they'll tell you that he's looked like the living dead since vacation," he supplied plainly. He was starting to get irritated with them. If Potter wasn't out committing suicide, then what was he doing that was so bloody important?

Dumbledore nodded and turned his attention to McGonagall. "Why don't you check the Gryffindor tower for signs of Harry, and then get Ron and Hermione and bring them up here so that we can find out if Harry has indeed gone missing." McGonagall nodded and left the room quickly and Dumbledore then turned to Snape. "Severus, go find Flich and find out if he or Ms. Norriss heard anything suspicious last night. Do it as quickly as you can." The Potions Master gave a curt nod, pivoted, and left. Next Dumbledore turned to Draco. "I can understand why you wouldn't come to one of us about the nightmares. Usually nightmares are merely that and there is nothing more to them."

"What do you mean, usually?" Draco asked. "Professor," he added quickly after a moment.

There was a pause as Dumbledore shifted, leaning forward in his chair, eyes intent. "Professor Snape has told me that you have chosen a different path than your father's," he said musingly. "He also says that you have talked many time about the subject and he is sure of your position. Am I wrong?" He waited for Draco to shake his head silently before continuing. "Well, I must say that I'm pleased with you Draco. I was hoping that you would choose not to walk that path. You will be an asset to us, I am sure." Seeming to feel Draco's mild growing irritation at not having his question answered he directed the subject back toward it. "Seeing as I feel I can trust you, and as you did happen to spend the holidays with Harry and take witness to all of this, I believe you deserve a deeper understanding of the situation."

The door opened at the end of his statement and Draco rolled his eyes. He was sure. Interupted right before Dumbledore told him what was going on. The old man probably timed it exactly so that he wouldn't have to say anything.


End file.
